"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)
Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, December 26, 2019, 11:35 a.m. Who am I kidding? I need to write. I don’t know what, but I know I need to write something. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life, but I’ve never bought insurance from a gekko or an emu. Or a cartoon general driving a red …
Continue reading Things on the Day after Christmas with Little to Do about Christmas
Clinton, South Carolina, Saturday, June 30, 2018, 4:02 p.m. I’ve been working my ass off. No, that’s not right. I’ve been wearing my ass out. Mainly I’ve been sitting down. I’m in the process of learning how to manage the county website. It’s not the official county website. It’s a news site, or two that …
Continue reading When the Roll Is Called in Homeroom, I’ll Be There
Clinton, South Carolina, Saturday, March 24, 2018, 4:46 p.m. Surprise, surprise. I awakened this morning to discover that a close friend’s edit of my next novel, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, had arrived via email. Last night I arrived home from a free-lance assignment to discover that my stock car racing novel, Lightning in a Bottle, …
Clinton, South Carolina, Wednesday, June 28, 2017, 12:15 p.m. Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ / Though the streams are swollen / Keep them dogies rollin’ / Rawhide! / Through rain, wind and weather / Hellbent for leather / Wishin’ my gal was by my side / All the things I’m missin’ / Good vittles, love and kissin’ …
Clinton, South Carolina, Saturday, March 18, 2017, 10:25 a.m. It’s been a lovely cruise, this week. Other than a couple cold nights at athletic fields, it was mainly noteworthy for what I am doing now, which is typing in various directions. This wasn’t nose-to-the-grindstone typing, in part because I own no grindstones, but also because …
I love writing fiction. At the end of a good chapter, I feel warm in the knowledge that I have done my best. The best of days is when I spend most of it writing and playing my guitar. This morning I finished the editing process of the next novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses. I'm …
I'm editing. Applying the lessons of my current novel, Crazy of Natural Causes, I'm taking my time more with the next one, Forgive Us Our Trespasses. It's a balance. In order to eliminate mistakes, I take my time. In order to get it out as soon as possible, I hurry. This time I'm stressing the …
This morning I awakened the usual way, which is to say I put on some coffee, washed down the daily medication, and retired to another sector of the manse for normal relief of bodily functions. Then I returned to the kitchen, stirred Sweet 'n' Low into the coffee -- which, I might add, was recently …
I’ve been absentminded my whole life. It’s not advancing age. It’s not the first onset of dementia. Not yet. If it’s an onset of dementia, it’s not the first. That was when I was in the third grade and completely forgot about a social studies project. On Tuesday, I was speeding along on the manuscript …
I just finished another once-over – a third-over, if such a word exists, or, perhaps more properly, a fourth draft – of my third novel, which is called Crazy of Natural Causes. I now consider it ready to be publication, though it is not impending. I considered it ready after the third-draft, too. After I …
Nightrider's Lament 